


Beat Drop

by KrumPuffer



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol, Derogatory Language, Drug Use, Gay Male Character, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:04:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18080879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrumPuffer/pseuds/KrumPuffer
Summary: Just a short sexy scene between Kavinsky and Lynch





	Beat Drop

Beat Drop

Ronan Lynch pulled into the vacant car dealership spotting the only car left on the lot. A white Mitsubishi. Identical to the one Ronan blew up only days ago. He rubbed the leather bracelets between his fingers, fucking Kavinsky. 

He pulled up next to the Mitsubishi and could hear the electric beats so loud from Kavinsky’s car his chest rattled, and his review mirror vibrated. 

He looked into the passenger window of the white car and saw Kavinsky’s head back against the head rest. His signature white framed glasses hiding his eyes. He was still as could be. Only his chest moving. If it wasn’t moving Ronan may have thought the guy dead. He was a raging pill popper of the colorful assortment. Uppers, downers, sideways-ers. You name it, he had it, he was on it, and he was high, or in this case, low? 

Ronan looked at the leather in his hands. The music was building. Why had he come here? To race? To ask this ass hole where he got the bracelets from? He knew the answers. No, he didn’t want to race. He knew where the leather was from. The music built more, faster, Ronan looked over at Kavinsky, and BAM! The beat dropped and Kavinsky pounded the steering wheel at the same moment! 

“Hey’a faggot. Does your wife know you are stalking me now?”

Ronan said nothing. He tossed the leather bands into the car, they landed in Kavinskys lap. Kavinsky lowered his white sunglasses on his nose and smiled at Ronan. An evil grin on his long mouth, eye brows raised, perfect teeth bared aside from the small gap between the front two. “Hey, bitch. That was a gift. Didn’t you keeper teach you any manners? Or is the trailer park trash wearing off on you?” 

“The only bitch I see is you.” 

“So, you came out here to return these? I call your bluff fuckweasel.” Kavinsky said, taking the leather bands into his hands, the music pulsed. “So, tell me, did you come here to race? Or did you come her to fuck, ya faggot.”

Ronan reeved his engine. And looked forward. His heart pounding. Both would get him into trouble. The racing. The fucking. He looked back at Kavinsky. 

“Let’s do this then ass hole.” 

“You have lube?” 

Ronan revved his engine again. 

“I thought you was talking about the fucking…. I guess I’ll have to rip your ass apart on the street then.” Kavinsky said, revving his engine and when the bass dropped it was like both boys knew that meant go. 

Ronan slapped the gas. He could smell the burnt rubber. He could feel the speed of his car. Neck and neck. The white blur next to him equally fast. Equally executed. Kavinsky could drive. And as the car sped past Ronan, he knew that was a car you dreamt of. It didn’t exist. No car was that fast. Not in real life. Fucking dream thief. 

Ronan came up on Kavinsky’s already stopped car. If he had half a brain, he would throw him the bird and leave. He lost. He got rid of the bracelets. What was there to stick around for? A fight? He did love a good fight. Drugs? A drink? A fuck? Ronan pushed that from his mind. He brought his car around. His driver side up next to Kavinskys, each car facing opposite directions. 

The music was still pulsing. Kavinsky’s head back on the head rest again. He had a flare for the dramatics, fucking piece of shit. 

“Where did the bracelets come from?”

“I think you ask the wrong question Lynch.”

“Where’s the fucking car from dick head.”

“Oh, no, ya see that’s where you’re wrong. Dick is your girlfriend. Now ask me what you came here to ask.” He lowered his glasses again, his eyes glassy, red. His  
smile came back, and he licked his lips.

“Fuck you.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He said and slapped his steering wheel like he did earlier when the music came to a revelation. “Your car or mine?” 

“Where did the car come from?”

“Why don’t you get your faggot ass over here and I’ll show you.” He said holding out his hand, something red between his two fingers. 

Ronan shook his head, saying no, but in the same moment turned the keys to his BMW and reached out to Kavinskys hand and took the pill. Before he could pull his hand back to take it Kavinsky caught him by the wrist. And slapped one of the leather bands around it. 

“For you sweet-hawt. Don’t say I didn’t spoil you first.” And he let go of Ronan’s hand and pushed his white glasses back up on his nose and turned up the volume. The music intensified and Ronan took a deep breath and swallowed the pill, dry. 

Ronan looked at Kavinsky and he smiled and rubbed the seat next to him, then patted it. And against better judgment, because he was lacking that on all accounts tonight, Ronan got out of his car and made his way to the passenger seat of the Mitsubishi. As he walked past the front of the car Kavinsky flashed the brights at him and Ronan flipped him off. 

“What was that pill?” he asked as he sat down in the bucket seat of the Mitsubishi.

“Just a little something to take the edge off, you frigid fuck.” 

Kavinsky handed Ronan a bottle of Jack and although it wasn’t his drink of choice, he took a long swig and tried not to make a face at the rush of whisky in the back of his throat. He handed the bottle back to Kavinsky and he took three long swings and tossed it out of the window, it burst when it hit the ground. Glass flying everywhere. 

“You’re a real fuck-tard you know that ass hole?”

“Yeah, well, anything I want is just a nap away. But you know all about that don’t you Lynch?”

Ronan felt the pill hit him, his muscles felt lax and the music was not just in his ears now but in his bones and his mouth and his dick. 

“Is that where the car came from?” 

“Why don’t we save our questions for later beautiful. We are just getting to the good part.” At that Kavinsky went to lean into Ronan and Ronan pushed him back into his seat. Pinning him. Kavinsky smiling and letting out an evil, yet sexual laugh.

“Don’t fucking call me beautiful, you fuck.”

“Okay, okay. Beautiful is out. But I gotta ask, is it because that’s what your girlfriend Dick calls you?”

“Why don’t we save the questions for later fag. We are just getting to the good part.” Ronan mimicked and at that Kavinsky pushed Ronans strong hands off his shoulders.

“Is that so? Well then, I’ll drink to that.” He said and reached behind the seat and pulled out another bottle of Jack Daniels. He took a long swing and handed the bottle to Ronan. Without hesitation Ronan took a long gulp and then without taking his eyes off Kavinsky he reached his arm out the window and chucked the bottle. It shattered. Kavinsky clapped is hands and let out a WOO HOO! 

“Now it’s a fucking party.”

Ronan felt the alcohol swirl in his stomach, hot. As it mixed with the red pill he closed his eyes for a long second. The music was pulsing through him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. In the distance he could hear Kavinsky laughing. But the music and the drugs were too loud. He reached to the side of him and pulled the lever, letting his seat fall back. 

He felt warmth on his leg. Warmth on his neck. He opened his eyes to see Kavinskys face next to his. Eyes hidden behind his infamous white shades. His hand on his thigh. Kavinsky licked Ronan from his collar bone up to his ear then whispered. “Cheers to the dreamers.” And he felt his hand rub up his thigh until it found his hard cock. He knew he was hard. He was always hard around Kavinsky. He didn’t even like the guy. But his ability to drive, his car, his speed, and his fucked-up attitude made his dick happy every damn time. 

“God Lynch, did you pull that from a dream? Because that is a lot bigger then I gave you credit for.” Kavinsky said, running his hands up Ronan’s dick, like he would the gear shaft of a fast car. 

“Would you just shut the fuck up…. I have an idea, eat a dick Kavinsky.” 

“Sure thing….. beautiful.” 

Before Ronan could come back Kavinsky’s lips were on his. Hot and tasting of Jack and bubblegum and pot. Ronan’s senses were spinning. The music, the drugs, the jack, the lips, the hands. He couldn’t separate where one ended and the other began. 

At first it was just Kavinsky kissing him. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slowly taking his tongue across Ronan’s teeth. Gently caressing Ronans lazy tongue. His hands working the bulge in Ronan’s pants. Then the music almost slowed to a stop and Kavinsky was a pro, he must have heard this song a million times, or maybe he dreamed it, but he timed the slow, almost halt of the kiss, of the caress of his hands to the beat of the song. 

The music picked back up. The mix taking a turn in pace. Intense and wavering between the right and left speaker. Ronan’s lust intensifying with the beat, with the high, he grabbed Kavinskys face and kissed him back. Deep. Fast. Hard. The bass took over. 

Kavinsky laughed under the kiss. His mouth sucked at Ronans tongue. Kavinsky broke the kiss, both boys panting, the car feeling extremely small. Kavinsky kissed Ronans neck, sucking, biting. Ronan held his head in his hands, willing it to keep kissing his neck, to keep biting. 

Ronan’s head fell back in pleasure, it had been so long. Kavinsky kissed him greedy, his hands found Ronan’s crotch again. He gripped it over the pants and Ronan let out a growl and pushed Kavinskys head down. 

Kavinsky took his face to Ronan’s hard cock. And kissed it over the hard jeans, it jerked to be freed. Kavinsky unbuttoned the pants and Ronan pressed his head back, “Fuck mannnnn.”

“I intend too.”

Kavinsky unzipped Ronan’s pants and slipped his hands inside the top of Ronan’s boxers, sliding his hands all the way around until he had both hands on a butt cheek. He gripped Ronan’s ass and pulled him up off the seat just enough to tug his pants down in one fluid motion. 

Ronan looked down just in time to watch Kavinsky take his whole hard dick into his mouth at once. He let out a moan and could see Kavinsky smile even with a dick in his mouth. 

Kavinsky slowly brought his mouth up his dick. Sucking hard at the tip. And then letting go of it. Working his tongue down the side on his cock. Then pressing his firm lips to the tip and making Ronan’s dick beg to get access back into the warmth of his mouth. Kavinsky’s hands came up and one worked the shaft as one found Ronan’s balls. He looked up at Ronan and smiled to see that Ronan had no control, then he took his whole dick deep. Sucking and working his balls. 

Ronan felt his every nerve on fire, and his dick started but buck at the sucking, and he pushed his hips up, deep into Kavinsky’s mouth, then he took his hand and pushed Kavinsky’s head down, deep! 

Kavinskys fingers worked their way between his ass and he applied pressure, not entering, but triggering Ronan. Catching him off guard. Ronan let out a “Fuuuuuckkkk. I’m done.” And tried to pull Kavinsky off his dick to cum, but Kavinsky sucked harder and worked his ass. Almost pressing a finger into him. Stimulating him with the beat of the song.

Ronan lost it all. Ronan felt as if his entire insides were pouring out of his dick into Kavinsky’s warm, strong mouth. Sucking every last drip of him. 

Kavinsky brought his mouth slowly up Ronan’s dick. 

Ronan’s body went limp. His hands shot up to his head and he rubbed them over his freshly shaved scalp. Exposed, his dick to sensitive to even consider covering. 

Kavinsky sat back, leaning against the car door. Over exaggerating wiping his lips. Twisted smile of pleasure on his face. White glasses still on, but Ronan could feel his gaze through them. 

Ronan reached down and pulled up his pants. And Put his seat up. Put his head back and closed his eyes, the music built back up and then BAM! The beat dropped and Ronan startled awake. 

He looked out at the lights approaching him from the entrance of the vacant used car lot. White. Mitsubishi. Kavinsky.

The car pulled up next to him, “Hey’ya faggot, wanna race?” 

Ronan could still taste the bubble gum on tongue. 

He looked forward and revved his engine, then back at Kavinsky. He tossed the leather bracelets in through his window. And when the beat dropped it was like both  
boys knew it was time to go.


End file.
